


Two Sides of a War.

by halelujah



Series: Tumblr Prompts/Fics [11]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Emissary Stiles Stilinski, Full Shift Werewolves, M/M, Secret Relationship, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-09 10:18:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13479435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halelujah/pseuds/halelujah
Summary: It’s become second nature now, to duck and weave his way through people’s questions.Why don’t you have your heart’s desire, they ask.Why do you purposely walk this Earth alone, when there are many that would be honored to lay with True Alpha McCall’s Emissary?Stiles doesn’t take pleasure in it, but if they knewwhohis heart desires,whowalks this Earth with him, though unseen by his Pack and theirs, it would mean immediate death.





	Two Sides of a War.

**Author's Note:**

> Just posting fics/prompts here to keep them all together.
> 
> Also, if this is a little weird, writing wise, I was trying for a medieval feel. Trying being the key word in that sentence. *shrugs helplessly*

It’s nightfall as Stiles slips through his tent and into the dark forest, a hood keeping his face hidden and the moon his only light source shining from above. It doesn’t matter to him anyway, he’s walked the same path for two years passed and would gladly walk it for many more.

He’s just two miles in when the air around him turns electric, the fine hair on his arms and nape of his neck stands on end. He catches eyes that burn molten before him and stops dead in his tracks.

A sense of playfulness grows in his chest, so he pushes back the hood, grins widely and says, “You’re it.”

Stiles turns and runs further into the woods, hears the sounds of leaves and underbrush crunch under a heavy weight and can’t help but let out a delighted laugh. He knows it won’t take long before he’s captured, but he enjoys running freely without any demands of responsibility or the dread of death.

He’s running along the edges of a river, looking for a way to cross when he’s hit with a force that sends him hurtling to the side and towards the river. Stiles is caught just before he lands and is saved from what would have been a hard blow to the lungs, though he still ends up in the water.

“You overgrown puppy!” He growls playfully, struggling to push the wet hood off his face.

He grins when he hears a happy rumble, grasps wet fur when he’s hauled to the river’s bed with gentle teeth.

~

The fire warms his chilled skin, his clothes discarded and spread around where the logs burn. Stiles is cradled in two large paws, claws he’s seen rip through flesh and bone like a knife through butter, gently pricking at his shins.Sighing, he buries his face in the scruff of fur above and breathes in the scent of earth and warmth, digging in further when there’s more bared to him.

“You had me worried today,” he murmurs, remembering the sensation of his stomach dropping to his feet and his heart lodging itself in his throat. “When Scott told me that the Alpha Pack had you and Hale cornered, and no one knew of the outcome, I thought the worst.”

Boyd rumbles softly and nuzzles the side of his face with his nose in comfort.

“I know, but if something happened to you and I wasn’t there to do something,” he swallows at the idea and leaves the words unspoken.

Here, laying in Boyd’s paws, there’s nothing much that can best this feeling, doesn’t recall a moment where he wasn’t in them though it hasn’t been that long since they both acknowledged their affection for one another. The reason for all the secrecy though? They were both on different sides of a war that had seen so much death and betrayal, that it seemed there would be no truce between the Hale and McCall Pack so long as their Alphas lived.

They had joined forces and created alliances to fight Gerard Argent, a man that had lost sense of reality and deemed all werewolves as animals, and those who allied themselves with them, were to be executed. Including his own son and granddaughter.

He doesn’t remember when the fragile civility between them changed. Maybe it was when Boyd tore the throat of a Hunter’s out just before he let loose an arrow that was for Stiles’ temple. Maybe it was when Stiles, while using the last of his strength and magic in a battle, shielded Boyd from a wolfsbane cloud that had exploded from a device the Hunters’ made. Either way, as they willingly chose to fight for the greater good, risking life or limb didn’t seem to matter when the other was involved. Their hearts had recognised and accepted one another and fight to the death they would.

Stiles had thought a new age was beginning when Gerard Argent lay dead at Chris’ feet, but the questionable bite mark around the dead man’s wrist and the way Derek had snarled at Scott, told Stiles he was wrong. He found out later what had transpired between the two and had to stop himself from shoving his boot up Scott’s ass.

“Derek has forbidden anyone to step foot near McCall or his Pack.” Boyd had told him, his grip firm around his hands. His eyes were shining, though not from the Shift, but from unshed tears. “He will deny you if you come into Hale lands. Your fate and anyone else’s who bares the McCall symbol is sealed; you’ll be slaughtered on sight.”

“ _You cannot walk from me_ ,” Stiles muttered fiercely, when Boyd had tried to do so. “I would find a way to follow.”

“Stiles, if Erica or Issac,” Boyd swallowed, “Or if _Derek_ found you here, they would not hesitate. All the aid you’ve given us has been forgotten, you are our enemy now.”

“ _Our_?” Stiles repeated, stumbling back as if the words were a physical blow. “Am I your enemy now, Boyd? Have you turned your back on me, dear heart?”

He followed after him and pulled Stiles into a crushing embrace, one that he was helpless to choke out a sob because of.

“I shouldn’t be in love with you,” Stiles whispers into his chest, tears hot on his face.

Boyd just held on tighter. “But you are.”

“I am.” Stiles promises.

That was the same night that began the illicit visits between he and Boyd. They had been cautious, always checking behind them at every turn, making sure to move under the blanket of darkness.

It’s in the morning though when everything goes to shit and all is revealed.

~

Stiles is woken up by lips dragging over the bare skin of his shoulder. He turns over blindly and hums when his silent demand for a kiss is answered.

“We’ve overslept,” Boyd greets him when he pulls away and opens his eyes. The sun looks beautiful caressing Boyd’s skin.

“I don’t care,” Stiles says, feeling mutinous for a change. He wants to stay in Boyd’s embrace forever. “Anyone that protests can suck on dirty donkey balls.”

“And how did I ever give my heart away to a person that speaks such filth.” Boyd chuckles, thumb brushing over the apple of his cheek.

“Like this,” Stiles cheekily replies, wraps his arms around Boyd’s neck and pulls him into a filthy kiss.

“Yes, I think that’s exactly how it happened,” Boyd huskily says, when Stiles allows him to move away.

Stiles’ answering laugh is cut short when a low growl begins to echo in his ears, the sound almost deafening where Boyd’s chest is pressed against the side of his face.

The warning too is short lived when at the mouth of the cave, that has sheltered them, protected them from prying eyes, stands Derek Hale, eyes bleeding into crimson.

~

It was useless to lie and say he wasn’t scared. The wolves that surrounded him could scent his fear, hear it in the way his heart beats rapidly behind his ribs. Even more so as he’s led towards where Derek stands on a platform, shoulders straight, eyes hard and his mouth set into a hard frown. He’s forced to kneel with a rough shove by Jackson, wobbling slightly to keep himself from toppling over his bound hands.

Boyd too is shoved before Derek and onto his knees, Stiles assuring him with a quick tilt of his chin that he was fine, when he ran frantic eyes over him.

“Do you know why you’re here?” Derek says, silencing the snarls that had erupted as soon Stiles was seen in the Hale Pack camp.

“Derek, _Alpha_ , please.” Boyd starts, flinching back when he’s glared into silence.

“I forbade anyone to contact the McCall Pack and here you are, Boyd. My second in Command disobeying my order.”

“Well it’s a stupid order,” Stiles interrupts, glaring up at the man and ignoring Boyd’s hissed warnings. “After all the aid the McCall Pack has given, the aid _I’ve_ given myself, this is how you would treat an ally?”

Derek’s eyes seem to burn brighter. “Yes. You were once considered our greatest ally, but that is all for nothing after what Scott forced me to do. The bite is supposed to be given as a gift, and while I understand where he stands with that notion because of my uncle, he had no right to use me and my belief to turn Gerard in the thing he became.”

“And I’ve told Scott that it was an unnecessary action that offended more than it helped. I’ve encouraged my Alpha to extend an olive branch.” Stiles replies, “He’s just too proud or too righteous to see passed his own misgivings.”

“Then what stops me from killing you now?” The Alpha retorts taking a threatening step forward.

Stiles sees Boyd tense beside him.

“Because both Packs have seen too much blood spilt. Please my friend,” he pleads. “You killing me would only prolong the war. We can have peace, just let me go with the intention of marriage to bring our Packs together. Forge an unbreakable alliance.”

It’s silent around them, though Stiles can’t really hear anything above the blood rushing in his ears.

Derek stands still before them, his eyes narrowed as he mulls over Stiles request. He’s beginning to believe that this might end well, that the bridge between two mighty Packs can be built again, when he hears the words that has his throat closing up in fear.

“Emissary Stilinski, your request is denied. Bring me his throat.”

Boyd let’s out a growl when Stiles is yanked to the side and goes to lunge for him, but Stiles has his bounds removed in moments, the wolf that attacked and the immediate ones surrounding him, pinned to the ground, his eyes and hands flaring up in a beautiful violet colour.

He’s knocked to the ground though in the next second, the wind punched out from his chest and takes a blow to the face, his mouth splitting open from the force. He brings his hands up to protect his head and waits for teeth or claws to sink into his stomach. The blow never comes because there’s a body covering his then, one Stiles would know anywhere.

“If you want his throat,” Boyd snarls above him, his arms and legs caging him in protectively. “You’ll have to take mine first!”

“Stop,” Derek’s voice calls out, halting all the advancing wolves. “Stand aside.”

They part for their Alpha until he’s standing an arm’s length away from them. Boyd hunkers down and lets out a low growl in warning.

“Get up,” Derek says, hand held out in front of Stiles’ nose.

“What game are you playing?” Boyd snaps, not moving.

“None, I just wanted to see if this was real.” Derek replies, slowly crouching and reaching for Boyd’s shoulder. “I apologise for causing panic, but this isn’t something that can be brought up lightly. To make this alliance work, it needs to be genuine.”

Stiles feels his mouth drop and tilts his head back far enough to catch Derek’s eye. “Make this alliance work? Genuine? _You’re accepting_?”

“I’ve known about you two for awhile. Even if I wanted to object, I’d have time to get over it.” Derek smiles, almost cheekily, and pulls both Boyd and Stiles up to their feet. “I’ve grown tired of this war, Stiles and The Alpha Pack grows stronger. If we are to eliminate them for good, both the McCall and Hale Pack need to become one. If this alliance works, then we will be a formidable force to be reckoned with.”

“It _will_ work,” Stiles swears, tilting his head up, determined. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“Go, take care of that, Boyd.” Derek nods his head at the bloody cut on Stiles’ mouth, a smile still on his face. “And never challenge me again.”

It’s a joke, but there’s a subtle threat that lays beneath it.

Everyone leaves after their Alpha does, happy smiles and hugs shared with Stiles at having him back in their camp. It sends a happy thrill through him, a feeling long lost.

A hand wraps itself around his and squeezes tightly, tugging gently. He turns and faces Boyd, the wolf’s thumb rubbing against the split on his bottom lip.

“I shouldn’t be in love with you,” Boyd tells him, seriously.

“But you are.”

“I am,” he promises, slanting their mouths together.


End file.
